Where’s my bacon sarnie?

Nell: David has been waiting in the kitchen for bacon since first thing.

Me: Where’s Poppy?

Nell: Having breakfast at The Nest with Malcolm and Susan.

Me: Well, he’ll have to get his own breakfast, or wait until she gets back.

Nell: He says he can’t start the working week without bacon. Ridiculous animal. I’ve told him to have toast and marmalade like the rest of us.

Me: I suppose I could make him some.

Nell: You know Poppy doesn’t like you cluttering up her kitchen.

Me: We could go down to the sea. They do bacon sarnies at the beach.

Nell: Bacon sarnies? If you mean sandwiches I think you will find they are actually rolls.

Me: How do you know?

Nell: Kev and I may have partaken of a few on our Thoughtful Walks.

Me: So that’s what you two get up to when you’re out.

Nell: Walking makes you hungry. Everyone knows that.

Me: True.

Nell: Now, talking of hungry, that Alaskan wolf has been spotted again.

Me: Shopping for frozen food?

Nell: No. Eating fish and chips at the quay in a knitted hat and scarf.

Me: You’d think it would find it especially hot here, being Alaskan.

Nell: The Cat thinks it’s a fashion statement.

Me: I suppose it might be.

Nell: Pamela said it looked quite smiley for a wolf.

Me: Fish and chips make me happy, too. Do I know Pamela?

Nell: She’s the Pyrenean Mountain Dog I met at the weigh-in at the vets.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: She was out with her friend Rhubarb, a Bernese Mountain Dog from Canada, when they saw it.

Me: A sort of Mountain Dog convention then?

Nell: Don’t be silly. That’s not until September and it’s in Toronto, not Kingsbridge.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

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